Angel Fever

Nina’s gaze widened as she glanced from me to Seb – but to my amazement, she didn’t look disbelieving. More than her hair must have changed in two years.

“Listen, if Jonah and Nina are sure it’s her, that’s good enough for me,” Rachel said firmly.

The murmurs of assent relaxed my spine a little, and then it hit me: Jonah? I turned and gaped at the newcomer as memories of the Denver Church of Angels whirled past. No way – it couldn’t be. Then mentally, I put him into a grey suit with an angelic blue tie; his gentle brown eyes were just the same.

It was really him.

“Yeah, we’re sure,” Jonah was saying. “Come on, Scott, put your gun down. All of you.”

Though his voice was mild, everyone obeyed. I stood staring, trying to take this in. “But – what are you doing here?” I blurted out.

Jonah glanced at me with an embarrassed smile. “Hi,” he said belatedly, stepping forward and offering his hand. “It’s great to see you again, Willow. I mean, it really is.”

I shook his hand in a daze. “You too,” I said softly. Our hands stayed gripped longer than necessary; suddenly my throat was tight. Jonah had been Raziel’s assistant. He’d risked his life to help us try to stop the Second Wave.

I let go. “Um – this is my friend Seb. Sebastian Carrera. Seb, this is Nina Bergmann, and Jonah…I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name.”

“Fisk.” Jonah extended his hand to Seb. I saw him glance at the empty truck and dreaded the question I knew would follow: Where’s Alex?

“Listen – we’re here for a reason,” I said hurriedly. “Pawntucket’s in danger; Raziel plans to attack in five days. At least, I hope we’ve still got five days.”

Jonah stared at the mention of his former employer. “Raziel’s going to attack here?”

Nina gripped my arm. “Quick, tell us everything!”

I told them what I’d gotten from the angel in the corridor. “Something’s happening here that the angels weren’t expecting,” I finished in a rush. “Something they feel threatened by.”

Jonah looked pale. “Yeah…yeah, I guess maybe there is.”

Scott’s jaw had turned to stone. “Oh, man, only five days – and the others are out checking the food stores! We’ve got to get them back so we can start planning, do something! Town hall, right? One hour!”

He and the others took off at a run, leaving only Nina and Jonah. “Shouldn’t we go too?” Nina asked anxiously.

Jonah still looked pretty shaken, but his voice was steady. “Scott’s got people to help him. And besides—” He glanced at Seb and me, his fists moving in his coat pockets. “We’ve got to talk,” he said intently. “I need to find out what the Angel Killers have been doing and tell you what’s been going on here. You, um…probably need to hear about it, Willow.”

Suddenly I had a terrible feeling that Jonah had a tendency towards understatement. “Yes, all right.” I glanced back at the truck. “Should we move this? It’s kind of out in the open.”

Nina nodded, giving it a worried glance. “Most of us live at the elementary school now – on Birch, remember? You can park it under the covered walkway there, so it’s not visible from the air. Jonah and I will meet you over at the town hall.”

Not visible from the air – I couldn’t believe the way sceptical Nina was taking all this in her stride. Two years ago she would have poured scorn on the very idea that angels really existed.

I shoved my questions away for the time being and started back to the truck. “Okay. Meet you there.”

As Seb and I drove to the school, a weighted silence settled down on us again. I glanced at his familiar profile and cleared my throat.

“Seb, look, I know you’re still angry at me…but do you think we could just pretend everything’s okay for the next few days?” I managed a smile. “If we actually survive this, you can go right back to not talking to me, I promise.”

He gave a quiet snort. Finally he shook his head. “You are the most infuriating person I have ever met,” he said tiredly. “But, yes, you are right.”

We’d reached the squat brick building of the Neil Armstrong Elementary School by then – I rocked us onto the sidewalk and parked under the covered walkway at the front. As Seb and I got out, our eyes met. He still looked irritated, but the corner of his mouth lifted a fraction.

“Friends?” I said.

He made a face. “No, I don’t think that’s the right word.” He pulled out his rifle from the back and slung it over one shoulder. “Even when I want to strangle you, you know, it doesn’t matter. We are still…” He stopped with a weary shrug.

My chest felt tight as I nodded, understanding. The bond we shared would always be there, like a deep river connecting us. Whether we wanted it to be or not.

As Seb and I walked down the familiar streets, I couldn’t stop staring. The fact that some homes were okay made the damaged ones look even worse. In the town square, half the buildings were sagging – broken windows, smashed-in walls. The drugstore had collapsed completely.

At the square’s centre, the town hall rose up from a snowy lawn, its tall brick structure stolid and unchanged. Nina and Jonah stood waiting on its front steps. They had their arms around each other; when they saw us, they stepped apart.

I blinked. Oh. So…apparently Nina didn’t have a thing for Scott Mason any more.

As we joined them, I bit my lip and glanced back towards the square. “I didn’t know you had such bad tremors here,” I said. Stupid comment. But I hated to see Pawntucket so slumped and defeated.

Nina nodded, studying the square with sad eyes. “We keep meaning to rebuild, but…” She sighed.

“I guess it hasn’t really been a priority,” Jonah said quietly. “One day, I hope. But come on, let’s get inside.” His eyes met mine. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

26

I’D ONLY BEEN IN THE town hall twice – once on a field trip in third grade and once to pay a parking ticket when I was sixteen. It smelled just the same, like dust and lemon cleaning polish. Jonah led us to a room on the ground floor. At one end was a battered-looking desk with a shortwave radio; at the other, a fireplace.

Jonah crouched in front of it, feeding the small blaze with scraps of wood. “Sorry it’s so cold in here,” he said. “The town’s only got one generator – we save it for the service station and heating the school at night.”

It felt strange that Jonah knew more about my hometown than I did now. I glanced at Nina, still hardly able to believe I was here. “How are you?” I asked her quietly. “I mean – how has everything been?”

“Bizarre,” she said with a tight smile. “These last two years have definitely not been normal. Not for you either, I guess.” She hesitated. “So did you know you were half-angel? Or what?”

I shook my head. “Not until I was sixteen – it was that day I followed Beth to the Church of Angels, actually.” It was also the day I’d first met Alex. At the image of him falling into step beside me as we walked through the parking lot, I stopped short and looked away. “It’s, um…a long story.”

Nina studied me with a frown, looking exactly the way she’d always looked when I’d tried to evade something. Thankfully, this time she didn’t pursue it.

“Are you sure your name is really Fisk and not Freedom?” Seb asked Jonah from beside the desk.

Relieved to have something else to think about, I followed his gaze – and saw scrawled notes on a yellow legal pad beside the shortwave. A puzzle piece slipped into place.

“You’re the Voice of Freedom!” I burst out.

Jonah’s cheeks reddened as he straightened. He briefly pulled off his cap and ran a hand over his head – his dark hair was close-cropped now, the curls gone. “Um, yeah…I guess you could say that.”

I felt a sudden fierce pride that the Voice of Freedom was coming from Pawntucket. “We listen to you all the